


Getting to Know You

by navaan



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dancing, Dinner, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Post-Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 12:44:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13054263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: The first time he asks her to meet after Superman's death is in Paris. He's there on business and he tells himself it's as much a courtesy as anything.





	Getting to Know You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lizardbeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/gifts).



The first time he asks her to meet after Superman's death is in Paris. He's there on business and he tells himself it's as much a courtesy as anything. It's only considerate that he should let her know he'll be in her area. He'd appreciate the same if she were to come to Gotham.

Diana doesn't outright say no and doesn't outright say yes. 

It's hard to read her, but he goes ahead and sits at his table and enjoys a glass of wine while he waits for what's to happen.

He isn't surprised at all that she's glorious when she appears in a tasteful burgundy red designer dress that shows off her long legs and perfect shoulders. Her hair is pulled up like at that party where they'd met for the first time.

It's like the room draws a collective breath at her appearance and he realizes that he really hadn't been sure she'd come. But now he's glad she has.

After all if this were about his own secrets there's a good chance that he wouldn't have.

“You look beautiful,” he says easily, and because it's so true it's more than just a compliment. It's a factual statement.

She smiles and her eyes catch a bit of a glow from it. “Thank you. You look very handsome yourself.”

Her tone is friendly, but amused and he can't help but wonder how often she's been told the same thing before now. Does it sound trite to her?

When he doesn't say anything, she starts off the conversation.

“Is there something we need to discuss?” And, yes, she is amused. He can see it clearly now.

Very few people even get close enough to find him amusing and at the back of his mind Alfred's mocking voice let's him know exactly why that's his fault and nobody else's.

“No,” he admits and smiles. “This is just a dinner.”

“Ah,” she says and her eyes are brimming with more of that shining amusement. It shouldn't be possible, but it makes her even more beautiful. 

He feels a smile tug on his own face. Alfred would be so proud.

“You still worry, Bruce. Don't you? That now a time has come when we are needed more than ever.”

“Don't you think that is true?”

She shrugs as if she doesn't know any kind of concern, but he knows it's not true. She has worried about humanity for far too many years, many more years than he has been alive. Only a shadow of it passes over her face though and she sits back and lets him order wine and dinner.

Over food, conversation flows and he lets her steer it away from herself.

He wants her to know that while he gathers knowledge about potential allies and enemies, he isn't here to learn more about Wonder Woman, which is what the media has been calling her since that day.

After dinner, she leaned back in her chair and smiled. 

He feels more relaxed than he normally does in people's company. He's not playing the role of Bruce Wayne, but he's also not entirely Batman here. He's in this strange place of in between that he usually only shares with Alfred.

“Thank you for the dinner, Bruce,” Diana says sincerely. It looks like she's ready to get up and leave. Instead she asks: “Do you dance?”

“Dance?” Of course he does. Anyone moving in his circles has at least learned to move around to music at debutante balls and galas. “I don't do it often.” 

Not for pleasure.

He isn't getting any younger and the truth is that he only admits to himself when he has to is that his joints ache, that his body is feeling the strain of years of abuse, that his own life is slowly creeping up on him. He wonders how long he can keep it up, before he'll be too slow in front of the wrong criminal.

“Let's go dancing then. Next time,” she says and it sounds like she won't accept disagreement.

* * *

She picks the place.

And he comes.

“I wasn't sure you would come,” she says when she spots him.

“I would never pass up an invitation by a beautiful woman. Especially not one who can wipe the floor with me.” 

She laughs as he leads her out to the dance floor and they fall into steps like they've been dance partners for years.

“I learned this kind of dancing during World War I,” she says and she's gauging his reaction. “That was when I left home to join the rest of humanity.”

He wonders how someone like her can call herself a part of “the rest of humanity”, but he doesn't ask. He knows only very little of her history, of her home or her origin, but he nods his understanding. This is some part of her personal history that she wants to share and he's going to accept it. A sign of trust.

“How long have you been _him_?”

She's establishing a trade, he realizes.

“I started to train for it when I turned 16, and I was 20 at the time I understood what it really was what I wanted to do.”

“That's a young age to plan so huge a mission; one that took up all your life and strength.” They're swaying to the music together not missing any steps. She reaches up and lets her smooth fingers brush along his cheekbone, settle on his face.

He's surprised when she leans up to brush a kiss against his lips. It's not a deep passionate kiss, just a short, chaste touch. But his lips tingle like they're on fire, because this is more intimate than most kisses he's known in his life. 

“You chose a hard life for yourself, Bruce Wayne. I wonder how much of it you think you deserved.”

 _Everything,_ he thinks but doesn't say it. He hopes she can't see it in his eyes.

A new song has started and Diana seems ready to return to their table, but he draws her into the next dance, sees her delight at it and smiles. She really seems to love dancing.

“Is dancing very different where you come from?”

She laughs. “More swords involved,” she says and laughs. He can't tell if it's a joke and that thrills him. Normally, he can read people so easily. But not Diana.

“On Themyscira,” she says softly, as if she's imparting a big secret, “I was always the youngest, always the child, always the princess. Out here in the world it took me a while to learn how to be the oldest.”

“You don't look it.”

Her laughter is clear like a bell.

“You're so young, compared to me,” she whispers.

 _And yet,_ she doesn't say.

He's growing old.

* * *

“Will you see Ms. Prince again?” Alfred asks with a note of wary hope.

“Yes, Alfred.”

That much he's sure about.

* * *

Their next dance is between Wonder Woman and Batman. They are ending a hostage situation in Gotham stadium together, fighting side by side, back to back.

“This more like dancing on Themyscira?”

She laughs delightedly in the midst of battle.

They're becoming partners. They're learning more and more about each other. They know each other's moves and steps. They have each other's backs.

And even the loner has to admit that it's good and makes the fight easier.

And life better.


End file.
